


Bedtime Stories

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Masturbation, Post-War, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-04
Updated: 2008-03-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:46:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10812042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: A naughty book prompts Hermione to make some much-needed changes.Originally written for the Winter Colorful Quote Challenge at Checkmated.





	Bedtime Stories

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This story was originally written for the Colorful Winter Quote Challenge at Checkmated and the beta work was kindly done by DoctorAicha.

  
Author's notes:

This was written for the Colorful Winter Fic Challenge at Checkmated, with the prompts: “If an idea is worth having once, it’s worth having twice” – Tom Stoppard; Color: beige

 

A hearty thanks to DoctorAicha for the beta work and the good character insights!

 

 

 

* * *

 

“Bedtime Stories”

 

 

Ginny stared at the colored squares Hermione had just laid on the table before her. “Oh, so these are the paint samples, then?” she asked, looking a bit nonplussed.

“Yes,” Hermione smiled. “I’m meeting with the painters this afternoon to finalize everything, then they’re going to paint on Friday.”

Ginny gave her a pleasant smile, then took a long sip of her tea. Hermione couldn’t help but think that Ginny was holding back something, which was unusual for her.

“So, these are all for the entire interior?” Ginny said, giving her the same pleasant smile. 

Hermione smiled back and nodded.

“Oh,” Ginny paused, playing with one of the paper squares. “Er, what does Ron think?”

Hermione sighed. “Well, he says that so long as the house doesn’t look like the inside of Madam Puddifoot’s, he doesn’t much care.”

“That’s a change, isn’t it? I mean, didn’t you tell me that you had a bit if a row about Rose’s room because she wants it laven…?”

Hermione shook her head. “It wasn’t a row; it was a disagreement. Besides, he said last night that he trusts my taste, and that it doesn’t really matter.”

“Oh.” Ginny took another long sip of her tea, and Hermione was again struck with the notion that Ginny was holding something back. She watched as Ginny fiddled with two more of the squares. It seemed to Hermione that Ginny was choosing her words carefully as she spoke again. “It’s, well, it’s quite a bit of beige, isn’t it?” Ginny fixed her with that pleasant smile again.

Hermione let out a huff. “That’s exactly what Ron said! Honestly! None of these samples is beige at all, which is technically a yellowish-grey and not at all brown, and all these samples are coordinating light browns.”

“Oh…I see,” Ginny offered. She paused, thinking for a moment, then, “Wait. I thought you said Ron doesn’t care.”

“Well, eventually he said he didn’t. But when I first showed him these samples the other evening, he said they were all beige, as if it were something bad.” Hermione could feel herself getting worked up again. “And I think it will look nice. See,” she started manipulating the squares, “the ecru will go on the walls of the parlor, with the toasted almond as the trim. Then the linen will be in the dining room, with the fallow as the trim, and the desert sand will be in the kitchen, trimmed with tan, and that will connect all the rooms in one scheme so the eye flows…” She broke off as she realized that Ginny was staring at her, all traces of her pleasant smile gone.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing. Nothing at all is wrong. Everything is fine, can’t you see? We’re all just fine.” Hermione was surprised to find tears glassing her eyes over so easily. “Why would you think that something is wrong?”

Ginny reached out and placed her hand on top of Hermione’s. “Since when have you hated color? Hermione, you can tell me if something is bothering you.” She squeezed her hand.

Hermione took a deep breath, and said the words that had been haunting her thoughts for weeks now, but that she had been far too afraid to articulate. “I think Ron’s having an affair.”

“What!?!” Ginny had nearly screamed the word. Hermione stared at her, her tears revealing her sincerity, while Ginny floundered for words. “What? I mean…how? When?...” She shook her head as if to clear it. “What are you talking about?” Hermione noticed that this last sentence came out with a small, ill-disguised laugh.

Hermione fought to keep the tears from falling. “I don’t know what else to think, Ginny. Something’s wrong between us, and I can’t figure out what it is unless it’s something like this—that he’s found someone else.”

Ginny regarded her friend closely. “Okay, Hermione, walk me through this slowly. When did you start noticing that something is wrong?”

Hermione took another deep breath. “I’m not even sure anymore. It’s just as if there’s some wall between us or something. I can’t really figure it out, you know? I mean, we get along well enough, and we’ve worked out a really good system in terms of getting up each day, getting the kids ready to go to Fleur’s or the Burrow, getting to work, getting the kids home again, eating, getting to bed…” She stared at the kitchen wall behind Ginny’s head, looking absently at the pictures Lily, Al and James had drawn and hung up in abundance. “But we don’t really talk to one another while we’re doing everything. When we do talk, it’s just to exchange information about work or the kids, or about problems somewhere in the family. It’s like he’s just not interested in me anymore.”

“Hermione.” Ginny squeezed her hand again. “I’m not going to tell you nothing is wrong, but you must believe me when I say that there is no way Ron is cheating on you. He adores you too much.”

Hermione looked at her intensely. “I want to believe that, I do, but he’s gone so much between the two jobs that I’m not always sure of where he is, and he just doesn’t seem attracted to me anymore. It’s not as if I look like I used to, which was never all that fantastic, but now after the kids my breasts are sagging and my stomach has stretch marks on it, and I wonder if he hasn’t met some pretty little thing somewhere and that’s why he’s so distracted at home.” Ginny looked at her askance. “I’m serious. Have you seen the way women look at him? I know he’s your brother so you don’t look at him that way, but other women do. All the time! He’s tall, and handsome, and fit, and has such a beautiful smile, and it’s not impossible that some young, thin, large-breasted thing just out of Hogwarts could have…”

“Hermione!” Ginny shook the hand she had been squeezing. “You’re going to make yourself crazy. I’m telling you, there is no way Ron is cheating on you. First of all, you look fantastic…”

“Ginny…” she withered.

“You do! Plenty of witches who have never even had children would kill for your figure! But more importantly, Ron’s mad about you.” Hermione sighed audibly. “He is! Look, Hermione, I know that I tease Ron a lot about, well, everything, but that fact is I know my brother, and he would never, ever do that to you.”

“I don’t want to think so, but…”

“No buts! Besides, I meant it when I said that he adores you.” 

“Then why doesn’t he want me anymore?”

Ginny leaned back and let Hermione’s hand go, taking a sip of her tea. “One of the things I admire most about Ron is his absolute devotion to you.” She raised her voice when Hermione looked at her skeptically. “He loves you! He does! And he does want you! Remember last week, when you were helping Hugo and Lily clean up the blocks from the floor, and you snapped at Ron for not helping?” Hermione nodded. “Do you remember how Harry and I started laughing?”

“Yes, it’s just hilarious when Ron’s lazy. That made me feel terrific, really.”

Ginny smiled. “Sorry. The thing is, Hermione, we weren’t laughing at you; we were laughing at Ron.” Hermione looked confused, so Ginny continued, “He wasn’t helping because you were on you hands and knees, and he was staring at your arse!”

“He was not!”

Ginny laughed. “He was so! Hermione, to be plain, the rest of the family mocks him behind his back because here he is, well over thirty years old, and whenever you’re off talking to someone else at a family party, he stares longingly at you across the room like he’s still a lovesick teenager. It’s pathetic, really.”

Hermione sighed. “I want to believe you, Ginny, and I want to be wrong about suspecting him, but I can’t deny any longer that something is wrong. Why doesn’t he show me that he’s interested or that he likes my arse?” The tears were back in her eyes.

Ginny took her hand again. “I’ll tell you what I think, but try not to be insulted. I’m only saying this because I was in the same situation a year and a half ago.” Hermione nodded for her to continue. “You’re in a rut.”

“A rut?”

“Yes, a rut. You’re so focused on keeping everything running smoothly, on keeping everything in control, that you’ve lost the ability to enjoy life.”

“That’s not true! I have lots of fun!”

Ginny sat back. “Really? People who enjoy life do not want their homes to look like toast. When do you have fun?”

Hermione was indignant. “All the time! I play at blocks and cards…and draw pictures with crayons…and play with dolls and stuffed creatures…and…”

Ginny let out a small laugh. “When was the last time you and Ron had fun?”

“Well,” Hermione found herself struggling. “Ron, well, he plays Quidditch with all the kids at the Burrow, and takes Rose and Hugo for rides on his broom, and…”

“I meant you and Ron together.” Hermione stared at her unhappily. Ginny smiled sympathetically. “See? A rut.”

“We may not be having a wild time like when we were younger, before the kids and all, but I think a ‘rut,’” she made little finger quotes, “is going a bit too far.”

Ginny looked kindly at her for a moment, then slid all the paint samples across the table to her. “You want your entire house to be beige. That’s a rut.”

Hermione stared despondently at the samples for a long minute, then cradled her head in her hands. “Oh Ginny! I don’t want to be in a rut.”

Ginny laughed gently. “Of course not! And remember, I’m only telling you this because I’ve been there. If you don’t want to life to be boring, then do something to fix it.”

Hermione looked at her uncertainly. “Like what?”

“Well,” Ginny began, “this is going to get a bit personal, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. Remember when Lily was born early, so that she was such a small and fussy baby?” Hermione nodded. “I got very strict about the house. I wanted everything neat, and quiet, and tidy, because it made it easier to deal with Lily somehow. I thought that if I couldn’t help my own screaming daughter, at least I could do everything else perfectly.” 

Hermione nodded again. “Well, that makes sense. When you’re child feels ill, nothing else is more important.”

“Exactly. But then Lily got older, and better, and I was still a controlling freak.” Hermione nodded reluctantly. “Well, it got to the point where it infected every area of my life, including my relationship with Harry.” Ginny looked at Hermione significantly, who mouthed an “O.” Ginny continued. “I mean, it wasn’t as if we didn’t have sex, we did, just…well…it was routine. You know, maybe once a week or so Harry would nuzzle my neck for a bit, tweak a nipple, get a leg over and ten minutes later we would be asleep.”

Hermione gaped.

“Oh, I don’t mean he wasn’t considerate,” Ginny continued, “I mean, Harry is a very adept lover and he always made sure I enjoyed it, if you know what I mean, but it was, well, predictable.”

She looked at Hermione expectantly, who had covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh Merlin,” Hermione whispered, “You’ve just described my sex life.” She sat, nearly hyperventilating into her hand. “What did you do? I mean, how…how do I fix this?”

“Well, of course you’ll understand that this is in absolute secrecy… not even Ron can know this, okay?” Hermione nodded. “We started having sex in public.”

“What!” Hermione jumped in her seat.

Ginny laughed. “Not literally. Well, sort of,” she considered. “I’ll tell you how it started. A bit more than a year and a half ago, we had a row, a big one, on the way to Teddy’s birthday party. Normally, Harry and I have it out, then make up quickly, usually followed by make-up sex, you know?” She nodded enthusiastically at Hermione, who shrugged helplessly, at a complete loss. “Well, we were having a miserable time at the party, not speaking to one another all day, and it got to where Harry was moping around, so I went in to clean the dishes and take my frustration out on them.”

Hermione, who could find no words, motioned for her to continue.

“Well, he followed me in after a bit, and he was so sorry and so sweet, and we started kissing, and well, getting involved, and Harry had his hand inside my robes, and it was just exciting, you know, until Bill walked in.”

Hermione gaped. “No!”

“Yes! So, Bill just spluttered and backed out of the room,” Ginny was laughing now, “and I don’t know what came over me, but I whispered to Harry that I just had to have him straight away. He was shocked, but I knew he was turned on, too, because I was rubbing up against him and he was completely hard, but he didn’t say anything, so I backed him into the pantry.”

Hermione was laughing in amazement. “You did not!” 

“I did! He cast an Imperturbable Charm, picked me up, pushed my knickers to the side, and well, there it was.”

Hermione was incomplete shock. “There it was indeed! In Andromeda’s kitchen pantry!” Ginny was laughing loudly. Hermione turned back to Ginny and prompted, “So…”

Ginny took a breath to calm down. “So, it was over quickly, but it was fantastic—absolutely thrilling! I mean, I was screaming! Then Harry put me back down, and we sort of stared at one another for a minute, and then we just laughed, straightened ourselves out, and rejoined the party.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“See, Hermione, we didn’t plan it, but after, for the rest of the party, we were happy, flirting, and touching one another, and then, when we were home and the kids were asleep, we had the best sex we had had in ages.”

Hermione was now giggling. “No wonder this is a secret. Could you imagine the headlines if you were caught?” Her laughing increased. “Or the look on your mother’s face?”

Ginny joined her, continuing, “So, we did it again two weeks later at a Sunday dinner at the Burrow.”

“You didn’t!”

“We did. Right in Dad’s shed.”

Hermione couldn’t stop her laughter. “Where else?”

“Well,” Ginny happily explained, “We realized that even if it was over quickly, it made us excited afterward, and we were getting closer and having fun with each other again—even at home at night. Our sex life improved so much, so…”

“Where else?” Hermione demanded.

“Er, your house.”

“No!”

“Four times.”

“Stop!”

Ginny shook with laughter. “Three times in the bathroom, and then at your New Year’s party last month, in the cellar.”

“The cellar!” Hermione’s hands flew to her mouth again. “That’s why it took you two twenty minutes to get more wine!” Ginny laughed. “Where else?”

“Over the past year and a half we’ve shagged at the houses of everyone in the family.” Hermione gasped. “Yes, and at the Wheezes, at Flourish and Blott’s, the Exmoor Quidditch Pitch…”

Hermione cut her off. “Don’t say the Ministry!”

Ginny nodded, her glee evident. “You bet.”

“When was the last time?”

Ginny took a breath. “This past weekend at that new restaurant in Diagon Alley.”

“Where Harry took you for Valentine’s Day?”

“Yes. I went into the men’s loo, he met me there, I cast a cleansing charm and Harry Imperturbed the door, then he bent me over the sink and shagged me silly.”

Ginny and Hermione laughed for a while, then Ginny got serious again. “Look Hermione, I’m not saying that you and Ron should do the same exact thing, it’s just that you two both need to put each other ahead of every tiny thing. My house isn’t nearly as clean as it once was, we eat take-away rather frequently, and my mum nags me about the state of my children’s robes and such from time to time. But none of that is as important as my having a strong, loving relationship with my husband. You need to put Ron ahead of your need to control everything.”

Hermione nodded solemnly. “Perhaps you’re right. But how? I can’t see myself telling Ron to just take me the next time we come here for dinner.”

“Good,” Ginny began, “because that is truly a revolting thought.” At Hermione’s gasp of indignation, she laughed. “Seriously, you need to show Ron that you want him, as much as you need to see that he wants you too. Seduce him.”

“Seduce my husband?” Hermione asked, her sarcasm evident. “Seduce the father of my children?”

“Yes.”

“Ginny…”

“Hermione, remember when you and Ron were first dating, and he would barely touch you because he had ‘too much respect’ for you?”

Hermione smiled. “He was so sweet.”

Ginny glared at her. “Sweet and frustrating, you mean. I remember listening to quite a bit of complaining about it.” Hermione shrugged. “Do you also remember that I told you to seduce him?”

“Yes, and it worked,” she conceded.

“See?” Ginny said happily, “If an idea is worth having once, it’s worth having twice!”

“Yes, so I simply seduce my husband, with whom I’ve been having sex for years. I doubt that taking off my blouse will have the same effect on a man who has seen me breastfeed.”

Ginny blinked at her repeatedly. “That was all you did? Take off your top?”

Hermione smiled. “Well, yes. I mean, Ron was an eighteen-year-old male; it didn’t take much once he understood that I wanted him.”

Ginny shook her head. “You would think by now I would know not to underestimate how simple my brother can be.”

Hermione gave her a warning look, and Ginny put her hands up in front of her. “I’m kidding, kidding,” she said soothingly. “So you may need to work a bit now. Besides, this might give you time to discover something new about yourself.” Hermione looked a bit skeptical. “Honestly, Hermione, if you had told me two years ago that I would get a major kick from having sex in all sorts of strange places, I would have told you you were mad.” Hermione sighed. “Come on, now. You don’t want to stay in that rut.”

“Well, no.”

“I have an idea. Come on.” Ginny jumped up and lead Hermione into the study. “I have a book you can borrow. Read it, get some ideas, and see what you like.” She handed Hermione a fat text with a dull blue cover.

Hermione read, “ _The Essentials in Flobberworm Care_? How exactly will this help?”

Ginny laughed. “The cover is charmed. Now that James and Al are reading, I can’t afford to have them pick out this book from the shelf. It’s a collection of erotic short stories by different authors. It has het, slash, threesomes, orgies, S & M, B & D…”

“Ginny! I don’t even know what most of those things mean!”

Ginny cackled. “You will soon enough!”

Hermione looked at the table of contents carefully. “You know, while I should believe anything about you after the discussion we’ve had today, I cannot believe you have a book like this.”

“Hermione, quite frankly, I cannot believe that you don’t.”

“How can I tell what these are about? The titles don’t mean anything to me.”

“You won’t until you read them. You’ll probably like some but not others. But really, what do you have to lose? Read through several and see what gets you going, then think of how you can seduce Ron with the knowledge.”

“I suppose you’re right. I mean, things can’t get much worse, can they?”

“Well,” Ginny said wryly, “you could actually paint your entire house beige instead.”

 

 

 

Hermione Apparated straight into her study. The kids were at Shell Cottage with Fleur, Ron was at the Ministry, and she relished the rare time to be alone in the house. She had near an hour until the painters were to arrive to finalize the colors for the house’s interior, and while she debated running a bath, she couldn’t deny that the innocent-looking book in her hands had her intrigued.

She sat at her desk in her large, comfy chair and opened the book to a random page. What she read shocked her: _Her breaths were coming in greater and greater gasps, causing her large breasts to heave as his hand slid into her knickers_ … She slammed the book closed. What was that? People actually wrote like this? She turned to the table of contents and studied it briefly, but as she recognized none of the titles or the authors, she decided to open to a random page again.

This one, she knew quickly, was better written than the last, though certainly not up to the caliber of literature to which she was accustomed. _He flicked his wand carelessly at the fire, then at their wine glasses, refilling them_. Hermione thought this was a bit cheesy, but it held some promise of romance, at least. _The latter gesture went unappreciated as she pressed her lips against his, grasping his head and pulling him down to her. As his arms slid around her back, she started leaning back on the sofa, bringing him crushing down upon her_. Hermione wiped sweat off her hands onto her robes as she read on. _‘Take me,’ she whispered as his tongue traced down her neck, and he expertly opened her robes to allow his tongue to lave her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra..._

Hermione read attentively, pages turning quickly as the couple got involved in their fucking _. She was so wet, and he thrust into her in one smooth movement, causing them both to gasp_. Hermione shifted in her seat and was surprised to find her own knickers were completely soaked! She wriggled in her chair, grinding herself into the soft cushion, unable to believe how excited she was. She debated with herself briefly, then slid her hand into her own robes and knickers as she continued to read. _He was slamming into her now, his body slapping against the soft flesh of her thighs, and she was squeezing her walls around his thick cock as…_

A long “Ooohhh” was torn from her as she came, rocking her pelvis almost violently. Hermione was gasping. Taking several involuntary deep breaths, she closed her eyes and settled against the back of the chair. Her fingers were positively coated in her own juices, and she had just had the strongest orgasm she had had in ages. Coming back to her senses, she looked around guiltily, then reminded herself that she was indeed home alone. Had she really just masturbated in her study in the middle of the day? She looked at the clock. She had forty-five minutes before the painters arrived. She didn’t need to debate with herself at all as she took the book and ran up the stairs to her bedroom.

A half hour later found Hermione naked on top of her bed, panting heavily from her fourth orgasm of the day as she lie on her stomach. She had read four different stories, about a wizard and a witch; about a wizard and three witches; about two wizards and two witches on a cruise ship; and about a hag, a vampire, and too many witches and wizards to count in a Knockturn Alley club; and each story had gotten her horribly excited. But why? What could the connection be that she could bring to her relationship with Ron? There was no way she was going to bring more people into their bed! Frustrated at her lack of intuition, she glanced at the clock, gave a small start, dug her wand out of her abandoned robes and flicked it toward the bathroom to start the shower. She had fifteen minutes before she had to look like a respectable woman having her house redone and not some wanton harlot.

She thought as she showered about all the little squares of beige, and realized that Ginny had been right. When she thought of Ron, when she thought of her children, she thought of bright blue eyes and ginger hair, freckles and maroon jumpers and magenta robes, crayons and brooms and toys. Why should she make them all live in a house that didn’t reflect them and their joy of living? As she dressed and made her way downstairs, she thought she would handle her issues one at a time. Why those stories excited her to such an extent was still puzzling, but she could now see what she needed to do about her house. Those little squares of beige paint samples were bound for the bin.

 

 

 

While Friday came around all too quickly, Hermione found that Friday afternoon lingered cruelly. She had spent the past week in an emotional upheaval that did not go unnoticed by Ron. He asked if she felt alright when she burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles at work, just after Harry recommended to the MLES staff that they search for evidence in every cupboard, pantry, and bathroom, if need be. She had been acting so out of character—or, really, so out of the controlling, unhappy character she had let herself become; she hoped now that the changes she was undergoing were as good for her family and her marriage as they felt. She laughed when Rose spilled her pumpkin juice twice in one dinner, and she saw Ron’s amazement at her cool reaction to Hugo’s trying to paint his pygmy puff with polka dots. 

The day after her talk with Ginny, she had started noticing all around her the signs of her fast-disappearing unhappiness, of her frustration at having too much to do each day. She looked at the chore calendar she had created, and incinerated it with her wand. On Wednesday, Ginny’s owl arrived with a scrap of parchment that had read, “Leave the dishes undone and get to bed!” and while it made her giggle aloud, she couldn’t find a way to explain what was happening to her to Ron. Not yet. She had wanted to have a plan for his seduction, first.

She had read three more stories in the “Flobberworm” book, in the bathroom in the middle of the night, quickly working herself to bliss with each one, but it wasn’t until Thursday afternoon that she had the epiphany she had been waiting for, of how she could bring this to her relationship with Ron. That settled, she arranged to have the day off work on Friday to “supervise the painting,” and convinced Molly to take Rose and Hugo overnight, as the paint would not be good for their young lungs. Leaving the painters to their tasks, she Apparated to Diagon Alley and spent a fair few galleons at _The Private Parlour_ , amazed as she realized that she had not bought any lingerie since before her pregnancy with Hugo. While she did not feel comfortable wearing the most provocative styles, she had found some items she thought flattered her figure, and was now wearing a racy little red number under her dressing gown as she waited for Ron to get home.

The afternoon had dragged on cruelly as her anticipation built, and by the time the painters had been finished and cleared out she couldn’t manage to keep still. Ron would be helping George get the shop ready for the Saturday rush, and wouldn’t be home until at least eight o’clock, and she was near out of patience. She had bathed, dressed, made a plate of Ron’s favorite sandwiches and brought it up to their room, where it waited next to two glasses of wine, a large shot of firewhiskey for Ron, and a book whose cover boasted of infinite flobberworm knowledge, a page carefully reserved with a bookmark.

By eight-twenty, Hermione was at the end of her patience, and let loose an audible sigh of relief when she heard the pop of Ron’s appearance in the parlor. She ran in from the kitchen where she had been pacing. Ron was staring at the walls, a finger pointing to the wall ahead of him and then to her. “What’s all this, then?”

She grabbed his hand. “Is that any way to greet your wife after a full day at two jobs?”

He looked at her, utterly befuddled. “What happened? I thought this was all going to be beige.”

“Well, I had a change of heart. Do you like it?”

Ron smiled a bit. “Of course. It’s the same as the Gryffindor common room.”

Hermione smiled brightly at him. “Yes! Come take a tour with me!” She pulled on his hand as she walked back toward the kitchen, but he didn’t budge.

“Hermione, are you alright?” She turned back around to find him staring at her, concern etched across his face. “I mean, all week, something’s been different, and you’ve been acting strangely, laughing at nothing, and now this.” He lifted a finger to her face and brushed her cheek. “Is everything okay?”

She squeezed the hand she still held. “I know this all must make no sense, and I promise that I will explain everything later, but I am fine, really. Better than I have been in ages, actually. For now, though, will you just come with me?”

He nodded, and she led him through the dining room, done in the same red and gold, and into the kitchen.

Ron stopped short. “Is this maroon?”

Hermione smiled widely. “Yes! It’s the exact color as all your Christmas jumpers.”

He looked at her askance. “Why?” She noted that he sounded slightly exasperated.

“Because it reminds me of you, more specifically, of you being warm in the cold of winter, and a kitchen should reflect warmth.”

He smiled gently, and she pulled him out of the kitchen and across the parlor to the study. It was a bright blue. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Nice, isn’t it?” He nodded. “I chose this blue because it is the exact color of your eyes.”

He squeezed her hand. “That’s really sweet of you. Are you sure you want to read and work in here? I thought you wanted this all to be soothing dirt tones.”

She smiled. “ _Earth_ tones, and I did. But I realized this week that I just don’t lead a soothing life, and that I want to be surrounded by the colors that remind me of the things and people I love.” 

He smiled more warmly, and she led him toward the stairs. “Is there a reason the stairway is yellow?” he asked.

“Of course. It’s from the first bit of magic I ever saw you try—on the train to Hogwarts first year, remember? _Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow_ …”

He laughed, and when she led him into the bathroom, he asked why she would choose emerald green. “Oh, this is for Ginny,” Hermione answered. He looked confused, so she added, “Don’t ask, trust me. She’ll get it, though.”

“Alright.” Hugo’s room was three colors, all taken from his favorite stuffed dragon, but it was Rose’s room that made Ron stop short. “Hermione, you were adamant that no daughter of yours would have a room this color.”

“Well,” she huffed mildly, “technically, this is lilac. It’s close enough to what Rose asked for that I think this should be alright.”

He laughed again, but his laughter was cut short when he entered their bedroom. It was bright. He stood in the middle of the room for a minute while Hermione climbed onto their bed. “Is this…”

“Yes,” she cut in, “it’s the exact orange of the Chudley Cannons.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Actually,” she continued, pointing at the wall opposite their bed, “there is one wall that’s beige—true beige—here. When all four walls were orange, it was really blinding, and I found that one beige wall toned it down nicely. What do you think?”

Ron collapsed onto the edge of the bed. “I think…I think…” He laughed and shook his head. “In all honesty, I have no idea what to think. What brought all this about?”

She crawled over to him. “I’ve been a bit stressed of late.” She began to rub his shoulders, loving how broad they were. “We both have been. I love you, and I love the kids, and I love my job, but it’s all overwhelming sometimes.” He nodded, then rolled his neck as his muscles began to loosen. “We’re both under a lot of pressure, and I realized this week, with some help from Ginny, that as much as I might love all the parts of my life, I wasn’t actually enjoying them. I’ve been thinking through a lot of things these past few days, and I’ve decided that I need to change my priorities a bit.”

He sighed as her hands worked out knots between his shoulder blades. “How do you mean?”

“Well,” she planted a small kiss on the back of his neck. “I don’t want to give up on any of the things I love,” she kissed just under his left ear, “and I don’t want to drown in stress trying to make everything perfect, either.” She moved around and sucked his right earlobe into her mouth, then let it out gently. “So I’ve decided to remember that life does not have to be perfect, so long as I can enjoy all the people and things I love. Everything else is less important, and if I have to choose between enjoying you,” she licked the side of his neck down to his shoulder, “and having a spotless kitchen floor,” she sucked at the skin at near his collarbone, “then it has got to be you, every time.”

Ron turned his head at this and caught her mouth with his, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and tugging on it gently. She returned his kisses for several minutes, slowly savoring the feel of his tongue against hers, one hand unclasping the front of his robes while the other played with the hair she found more beautiful than any other on earth. When he turned more fully to reach for her, she broke off quickly and backed away across the bed. He stared at her, speechless.

She smiled as wickedly as she could manage to cover her nervousness, kneeled on the mattress, then reached for the tie that had been holding her dressing gown together, pulling it open to reveal her red lace bra and knickers. “Did you like what we were doing?” He nodded, his eyes traveling over her breasts, down her abdomen, and to the juncture of her thighs. “Do you like what you see?” He nodded absently, still staring at her almost-naked body. “Do you want to touch me?” His gaze met her eyes as he turned to crawl across the bed to her, but she held up a hand to stop him. “Then I need you to do something for me.”

He stopped. “What?” She couldn’t tell if he was impatient or aggravated.

“Read to me.”

Ron stared at her. “You want me to read to you.” Hermione smiled and shrugged her dressing gown off her shoulders. Ron looked confused again. “You want me to read to you if I want to have sex.” She smiled again and nodded. “Well, that’s…different,” he offered. 

She crawled to the bedside table and grabbed her naughty book. “I’ve marked the page.” She held it out to him.

Never taking his eyes from hers, Ron reached a large hand out slowly and took the proffered book. “I should read this to you.”

“Yes.”

He looked at the cover. “About flobberworms?” She laughed, then nodded. Ron sighed, then opened to the page marked. He started reading, his voice loud and clear. “ _He flew his broom into the open bedroom window, knowing she would be waiting for him even though her family forbade it. Dismounting, he noticed that her nightdress was already in a pool on the floor_.” Ron stopped and stared at Hermione. “You really want me to read this?”

She nodded and crawled a bit toward him. “Trust me.”

Ron sighed, and continued reading. As his voice spoke of the young man pulling back the bedclothes to reveal the naked ingénue, Hermione moved back to Ron and finished the job of unclasping his robes. He continued, “ _While she slept peacefully, he moved one hand slowly up her leg to the inside of her creamy thighs, his fingertips just brushing the curly hair that covered her beautiful pussy_.” Hermione had pulled the robes off his shoulders, revealing his strong back, and she took to licking and kissing Ron’s neck again. “Damn, Hermione!” He took a quick, deep breath, “ _His hand continued up the contours of her stomach until they reached the undersides of her full, ripe breasts_.” The hand holding the book dropped as Ron reached around and tried to grab a hold of his wife, who jumped away across the bed quickly.

She looked at him intently, “If you want me to continue, Ron, you need to keep reading.”

He stared at her for a moment. “You’re not kidding, are you?” She shook her head. “Where did you ever get a book like this?” She raised one eyebrow and chose not to answer. He stared for another long moment, then slowly nodded his head. “Right. Right. I’ll just read, and you’ll do…” he gestured vaguely with his hand. 

She smiled. “All that and more.” She moved to the head of the bed and propped up a few pillows. “Let’s make you comfortable, shall we?” As Ron began to move backward toward the headboard, Hermione grabbed a hold of his robes. “And let’s take these off, too.” She helped him out of his robes, leaving him with a pair of boxers that she happily noticed were starting to tent up quite nicely.

Ron stared at her for a moment, adjusted a pillow behind his neck, and picked back up the book. He took a deep breath, and began again. “ _Gently as he could, unwilling to wake her just yet, he smoothed his fingertips over the flesh of her breasts as they_ …” Ron’s voice broke off as he took another deep, quick intake of breath. Hermione had started licking her way up the inside of his thigh. “ _As they rose and fell… with her breath_.” Here, Hermione pulled the waist of his boxers down. “ _And he slowly_ ,” Ron lifted his hips slightly, allowing Hermione to remove his pants, “ _worked his hands around and over her nipples, pulling them into peaks ever stiffer_ ,” Ron gasped as Hermione’s tongue found the base of his shaft, “ _and higher until he could_ …Oh Merlin Hermione!” She licked to the tip of his now completely hard cock, then traced around the head with the tip of her tongue. She stopped and sat back up.

“Keep reading.”

Ron’s breaths were deep and fast as he stared at her. “I can’t. Please don’t stop.”

“Keep reading,” she insisted, looking steadily at him.

He finally nodded. “Right. Where was I? Oh. _Stiffer and higher until he could_ …Oh bugger!… _no longer resist and pulled one_ ,” Hermione had returned to teasing his cock with her tongue, and was now giving him long, slow licks from base to tip, “ _into his mouth_. Yes!” Hermione wrapped her mouth around his dripping cock and began to gently suck, moving her lips and tongue up and down repeatedly. Ron started panting. “ _And as he sucked_ … That’s it!… _on her breasts_ … _she awoke_ …Oh sweet Merlin Hermione!… _and moaned his name…reaching for him_ …Fuck!... _and pulling him down_ …” As Ron continued to read, his voice broken by his breath and punctuated with curses praising her, Hermione realized that if she thought reading these stories by herself was sexy, hearing Ron read them was liable to kill her. She continued to suck on his cock, running her tongue around his ridge, pulling off almost completely to slam her head back down and take as much as she could into her mouth.

“…Oh!... _tongues were_ … _fighting…for… dom…dom…dominance_ …”

Listening to him gasp and moan as he read, she couldn’t remember if she had ever enjoyed sucking on him so much before.

Ron’s voice was becoming strained. “ _He licked…down… her abdomen… past_ … Oh god Oh god _… the curve…of her hip_ …”

Hermione reached down to pull her knickers off. They were soaked through, she knew, and she now needed Ron inside her as fast as humanly possible. Pulling her mouth off him, his reading paused for a moment, but he began again immediately. “ _His tongue…was dancing…inside of her folds_ ” Ron croaked out as Hermione, free of her garments, crawled over him.

“Keep reading!” She couldn’t believe how forceful her own voice sounded.

“ _He replaced…his tongue…with his fingers_ Oh fuck me!” Hermione was now straddling Ron, placing the tip of his erection at her entrance.

“Read! Oh Merlin, Ron, don’t stop reading!”

He nodded weakly and his voice rasped, “ _And he moved_ …ohhhh… _them in and out_ …” Hermione had impaled herself on Ron, and was grinding into him as hard and fast as she could, “ _as his tongue…flicked across…her_ …Fuck!... _she…was moaning_ … Merlin, yes!... _his name_.” 

Hermione was reveling in how his incredibly hard length filled her as she rocked and gyrated her hips. “Ohhh... Ron!” Eyes squeezed shut against the overwhelming feelings and the sound of Ron’s voice, she figured he must have held the book in one hand as he suddenly grabbed and started roughly massaging her right breast. It felt incredible. “Don’t… stop…ever…Read to me!”

His voice barked out the words gruffly. “ _He… started… thrusting_ … Fuck!... _into_ …Hermione!... _her… faster… and… faster_ … Mmm!…”

“Oh god Ron!” Hermione could feel her abdomen start to undulate as her climax hit her, and as she fell over on top of him, she heard the book hit the floor. Ron had grabbed her hips and was thrusting up into her hard and fast, prolonging her orgasm, and she was keening uncontrollably by the time Ron’s back arched a minute later and he spilled himself up into her, gasping for breath.

Hermione had no idea of how long they stayed in that position, her head flat on his chest and his slowly deflating cock still inside of her. She felt warmer and calmer than she could remember feeling in ages, and didn’t think she had the strength to lift a single finger. Eventually, their breathing returned to normal, and she could feel Ron lift a hand to her head and start playing with her hair. It was wonderful.

Long minutes later, Ron spoke. “I have no clue as to what gave you that idea, but Hermione, that was brilliant.”

She answered with a “Hhmmmmm,” and a small nod of her head.

He gently grasped her chin with his fingers and tilted her head up toward his. He gave her a long, slow, deep kiss that made her want to melt even further into him. After, still lying on his chest, she managed to keep her head upright to look at him. They shared lazy, broad smiles.

Ron ran the back of his finger down her cheek. “I think I may owe you an apology.” She wrinkled her brow, confused. He took a deep, steadying breath. “You know what you said earlier, about loving each part of your life but not enjoying it, well, that’s been true for me lately, too. It’s just that…it’s just you always seem to have it all together, and you keep us all so well-organized and everything.” He leaned up and kissed her softly. “I must have been taking you for granted, and I’m sorry. I guess I just forgot my most important job recently.”

“What’s that?”

“Making sure you have fun.”

“That’s not your job, Ron.”

“Oh yes it is.” He smiled warmly at her. “It has been, since I was eleven.” She raised her eyebrows at this. “Now, I’ll admit that there were months at a time when I was rubbish at it, but that’s when we were kids. I’m not a kid anymore.”

She smiled deviously. “No, you most certainly are a man.”

He laughed. “Well, we’ve been rushing around, getting so much done, that I think I may have neglected to tell you how beautiful you are.”

Hermione blushed and lowered her eyes, prompting Ron to nudge her chin up again.

“I mean it,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful, amazing person on earth.” 

She smiled. “I love you, Ron.”

“I love you, too.” He gave her another soft kiss, then jerked his head toward the plate of sandwiches and smiled broadly. “These for me?” She nodded. “And the wine and whiskey, too, eh?”

Hermione smiled. “Well, one glass of wine is for me.”

He gave her bum a soft, playful slap. “Sit up,” he commanded gently as he pulled himself up and reached for the wine, handing her a glass. He took a deep drink and regarded her carefully over the brim. “You’ve really planned quite an evening for us here, haven’t you?”

She nodded happily. “The kids are staying overnight at your mum’s.”

Ron laughed, reaching for the plate. “Well, I had better get eating then.” She looked at him quizzically as he took a large bite, then he reached down over the edge of the bed and picked up the book. He swallowed. “This is quite a thick book, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes, I suppose so.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “So I’m going to need to build up my strength then if we’re going to get through all this, yeah? I know how dedicated you are to studying.”

Hermione took a sip of wine and giggled happily. She then leaned toward Ron and gave him a soft kiss, whispering into his mouth, “Eat up.”

 

 

End

 


End file.
